Rapture
by AmourApricot
Summary: Two masters seduction, Ikuto Tsukiyomi and Kukai Souma, decide to entertain themselves by vying for the affection of the innocent beauty Amu Hinamori, until someone falls in a spiral of passionate love, complicating matters. AMUTO/minor Kukamu
1. Enchantment

**Sierra: Aha...NEW STORIES FOR DAYZ. Just kidding. I am very aware I shouldn't even be starting a new one, but silly me, I am. Oops! **

**Anyway, just thought I'd say that this story might be a little...intimate? I think that's the right word to describe it. Passionate, that's also a good one. Okay, I'll stop ruining it. This takes place in the late 1800's, in London, England, so nothing much modern will be going on here. And, yeah, guess that's it. **

**Do enjoy~ **

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><p><em><strong>Rapture <strong>_

_**~Enchantment~**_

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><p>"Amu, dear, you look as if you're not enjoying yourself," she said, old voice slightly shaky yet smooth as silk over the soft hum of orchestral music flowing around the expansive room. Her tone was suggestive, as if there was already an answer behind her questioning glance. Gray brows furrowed as hazel eyes stared deep, waiting for an answer.<p>

A deep breath in, calming, collecting thoughts as if they were pieces to a puzzle. Gathering confidence through an insecure mind, exhaling loudly; too distinct, too obvious.

"Grandmother, I assure you I'm having a ball." No joke - pun intended - it wasn't as if a ball was in progress. Nothing but utmost respect in a single reassurance.

Instantly her expression lightened, eyebrows raising approvingly as thin-as-twig lips tilted upward in a bright smile. The edges of her eyes crinkled considerably as she flashed her pearly white teeth. "Oh, that's wonderful. I was so worried because you looked lonely over here by yourself-" another deep breath, she glanced around the room, eyes wondering "-where has Miss Hoshina run off to? I thought she was to keep you company." And again her expression faltered, and a twinge of guilt whipped me, harder than the bite of a belt.

"Grandmother," I assured again, wanting nothing but her happiness. And her leave. "She has simply gone to use the utilities." Lie. She couldn't stand my "attitude" as she called it, too boring for her. Heart colder than ice, freezing to the touch.

"Oh, is that so?" Her facial features were so bipolar, changing at every sentence. "Well, that's good. I do hope she returns soon, God bless that lovely girl."

"Yes, of course. She promised to be back quickly." She was old, gullible, not that it felt good to lie. But she didn't need to worry about me, didn't need to burden herself with such troublesome thoughts. I was fine.

"But Amu, you know you are a beautiful girl as well. Why, I wouldn't be surprised if the prince asked for your hand," she laughed, not loudly for her aged lungs could not do that, but a small, old-woman chuckle filled with joy.

I managed a small scoff-laugh noise, to make her feel good, and said, "Grandmother, by no means am I of proper blood _nor _am I possibly fit to be the wife of someone with such high standards as the prince." For heaven's sake, the woman must be living in a fantasy land. I wasn't even capable of applying makeup.

"Amu," she scolded, sending a disapproving look at me, "how dare you sell yourself short. Can you not see your own beauty? It's astonishing. I do hope that one day you will be able to embrace your natural appearance, may God bless your stubborn soul." With that, plus a look filled with displeasure, she turned, laced and elaborate fan in one hand resting on her chest, slightly fanning herself, and glided gracefully away from the long, heavily covered refreshment table.

Of course, may I scold my stubborn soul a thousand times for giving her unnecessary worries.

I sighed deeply, scrunching my face in annoyance with myself. Could I not be the perfect young woman she viewed me as, or would I forever continue to anger those around me? Perhaps I should just be a shut-in, secluded from the world and everyone in it. Then, maybe, I wouldn't annoy as many people or get angry at myself for annoying those people.

But the prince? Seriously? My natural beauty wasn't getting me within ten feet of that too-good-for-pedestrian-women rich freak. Or maybe it was my attitude that kept me separated. Because no one apparently liked that.

Lie. Again. Just Utau, because I bore her. Clearly she needed entertainment from a personal entertainer to keep her three-second attention span at bay for five or more minutes. A lively girl like that, addicted to fun and games was to get nowhere fast. She needed to find a serious pastime that didn't involve active things. Perhaps she could go to a library, or learn to draw. Everyone knows her family has the money to afford her a private art teacher, or music teacher.

I stopped my inner monologue. It's really not good for me to constantly lay out blueprints for other's lives' and not my own. Shaking my head as if to rid it of such elaborate thoughts, I tore my eyes from the ballroom floor, which was occupied by hundreds of upperclassmen, all dressed in fancy suits and expensive gowns, women who were practically drowning in their large diamond necklaces and earrings, not to mention the sparkly gems that captivated their fingers, and inspected the snack table behind me. Everything on it looked far better than just delectable, and I hadn't eaten all day so it would be easier to fit into this choking contraption we call a corset, so of course it was natural to want to grab everything and shove my face with delicious food. But I had to be lady-like, impress those around me so I would not embarrass my grandmother, who was by far the most dressed up elder at this ball, and eat sparingly, which meant one bite of a sandwich and that was all.

Well, sparingly would have to wait for another time.

Of course, I did not know what half of the items on the table were, let alone what they tasted like. Everything looked so fancy and too good to eat. But at the growl of my empty stomach, my hand blindly reached out to grab a small, frilly looking dish which held many thin, crispy layers of what looked like pastry with some type of delicious looking cream. Other delicacies inhabited the dessert, but I was at a loss as to what it specifically contained.

A very small silver fork rested on the plate next to the tiny meal, presumably to cut it with. But was that how it was supposed to be eaten? I hadn't a clue.

I looked around just as the orchestra picked up its pace, an upbeat rhythm that kept the noblemen on the dance floor active. Was anyone to help me with this dessert? I sure did not want to look clueless eating it.

But I most likely looked clueless glancing around the room profusely, so I returned my attention to the full plate in front of me.

"Here goes nothing?" I whispered to myself, picking up the fork in for some reason, oddly clammy hands. They shook as I tried gripping the fork's sleek surface, making it exceedingly hard to cut the pastry with. With a forceful movement down, the fork dug into the corners of the dessert, but my one hand was not enough to support the dish that was smaller than it.

It slipped out of my not-so-tight grasp, and plummeted to the floor faster than I could do anything but start to form a gasp.

_No, my grandmother would be so embarrassed if I were to break one of their dishes and spill their food! _I bent after it, but the stiff corset would not allow my torso to bend. It pushed up, pressing my breasts farther into my throat, and it was apparent I was not bending down. The layers of skirt flurried out on all sides, and I was trapped in a bubble of my own dress.

But in one quick second it was all over.

A new hand appeared out of the blue, grabbing the bottom of the dish perfectly, gripping, holding tightly to not tilt the dessert that seemed undisturbed atop it. My eyes widened, partly because the dish was saved, partly because a stranger just grabbed my plate for me.

Immediately I looked up, but only saw a mop of shiny, silky hair that dangled from a bronze head. The stranger seemed to be in a bowing pose, one hand behind his neatly tailored suit, one hand out in front of him grabbing the plate. Unfortunately, the fork seemed to still clash with the ground, but the noise was not heard over the deep level of conversation flying around the room.

I gasped, shooting up instantly. My eyes closed lightly as my hand caressed the hard, laced fabric of the fitting corset.

_God I despise these things- _

"Miss Hinamori."

My eyes fluttered open, attempting to focus on the man before me as my name rolled off his lips. Slightly dizzy, the orchestra crescendo'd into a variation of low and high notes that melted together into one breathtaking chorus - not that I had much breath to be taken, thanks to one figure flattering outfit. But I drunk in the heavenly sound of the skilled string instruments while pursuing a calm state of mind and body. _  
><em>

Exhaling silently, I blinked at the helpful stranger who patiently awaited my gratitude.

And my hands.

"Goodness, I-I-"

The more I stared at him, the more speechless my mouth became.

His appearance was exotic, flipping my eyes every which direction, wanting to identify every unknown corner, crack and pore of his face, his neck, his hair, his body and every feature in between. His mane consisted of many light brown fibers piecing together in a mop of plush hair that flipped in odd yet cutely boyish ways all around his color toned head. Emerald green orbs met mine as tiny specks of light seemed to flick and twinkle in the darkness of his eyes. No impurities bothered to ruin his smooth cheeks, narrow chin or chiseled nose. His obsidian suit was not crinkled in any way, perfectly straight, perfectly clean, perfectly perfect. Even his tie seemed blacker than the night.

And while I was examining this beautiful man, I had pushed aside the duty of thanking him and retrieving my plate.

"Thank you, sir," I said politely, pulling out every ounce of bravery I had. Not that I was shy. He was simply...fascinating. Then it hit me.

_Miss Hinamori. _

"How do you know my name?" I questioned, pink brows furrowing in my most dazzling quizzical manner.

He nodded his head to the side, and my head followed the direction obediently.

"Your grandmother, Marquess, Hinamori and I indulged in a conversation recently. Her stories are quite enthralling," he replied, voice soft and sweeter than the dessert he was still holding could have ever been.

_YOU are quite enthralling. _

I smiled back that statement. "Oh, you talked with her? That's lovely to hear, but how did you know she was my grandmother?" How many random noblemen did she just walk up to and strike a conversation with? What a social butterfly, how did my mother not obtain that quality?

He smiled, and his teeth were so remarkably white and straight I bit back the urge to comment on them. "You came up a lot in the conversation."

God, he was handsome. I melted under his smile, his gaze, his everything.

_Get a hold of yourself, Hinamori. Men are _not _worth it. _

Why must my subconscious hate me?

"Oh, dear, did I? I hope she didn't dull you with uninteresting stories or facts about the topic of discussion." In simpler terms: I really, really hope he thought whatever she said about me was interesting.

Mr. Perfect managed a wonderful, euphoric laugh that made my stomach bubbly with an emotion I banished myself from feeling.

"No, Amu Hinamori, she did not bore me at all. In fact, what she shared with me piqued my interest magnificently," he informed, and it was all I could do to not start spinning and squealing with joy.

_Did you hear that? Magnificently! Not just, 'A tiny bit,' MAGNIFICENTLY! _I smiled.

_Shut up! That doesn't mean anything, _my subconscious scolded, and I bit my lip at the inner conflict I was experiencing. There were so many things I could have replied with, so many unspoken flirtatious fragments of my heart I would have liked to pour out, but he cut me off with a simple action before any of that could have become possible.

His hand stretched, a silent signal to relieve him of the dessert he still held. With a blink and a breath, I reached forward and captivated the china with both hands that had dried significantly since the plate slipped from them. "Thank you," was all I acknowledged that with.

"_Mille-feuille_," he announced, a thick French accent caressing his deep voice.

I flicked my eyes up in curiosity.

"That's what you have," he defended, head nodding in the direction of the dessert. "It's a classic French pastry topped off sweetly with powdered sugar. It's flavor is rich and savory, in my opinion. A tempting pick, Miss Hinamori."

I frowned at his sudden change of subject, wanting to continue the topic of his interest in me, but not brave enough to return in a smooth manner. It was interesting to learn, however, that my choice of food was all to his liking, and he even titled it _tempting, _of all the seductive choice of language.

A charming smile curved my pink lips, eyes staring endearingly into his. The pulse of my heart picked up marginally, an active mind demanding a single consistent subject to keep it occupied, unlike Hoshina Utau who loved being overwhelmed with thirty different thoughts at the same time.

"That sounds quite appetizing," I threw in, "but unfortunately my clumsy hands let the fork fall." Pretending a minor frown, I waited what he would respond with to my meager predicament. A low section of my stomach flipped in excitement when he actually smiled and closed the space between us.

This flip almost caused me to feel sick out of nervousness, but delighted me in response to our close proximity and the smile he wore so perfectly. His hands reached up, and one placed gently on the back of mine, helping support the plate, and my heart dropped for a split second at the feel of his surprisingly smooth hands.

The other navigated around to the place where I had apparently succeeded at cutting the small corner of this _Mille-feuille_, and he gathered it with his fingers, which looked clean enough to me, and picked it up gently.

_Oh, he's going to feed that to me? _

By this point my heart leaped into a full, faced-paced gallop, causing my breathing to appear erratic, despite the fact I tried keeping it under control.

My mouth opened inadvertently, expectant, waiting to taste the pastry from his designer hands. He hesitated a second, and everything stopped, even my breathing; the world around me seeming to slow in an oddly fast motion, until finally the food fell past my lips and onto my tongue that had gone greedy from impatience. And just like that, once again, everything picked up its normal pace and the actions unfolded normally.

I bit down, hard, smashing the Mille-feuille against the roof of my mouth and my tongue, tasting the cream first, rich and light and so, so good. I moved it to the side where my teeth dug into the crispness of the pastry layers, savoring the sweetness of the powdered sugar that lingered on top. Swallowing, I let it slide down my throat, feeling deprived of its soft and hard texture, its rich flavor and everything in between.

"It tastes divine," I finally said. He smiled, as did I. As I finished, I said, "You know, you never told me your name."

His eyebrows raised. "Oh, it seems I let that slip my mind. I am duke Souma, Kukai, ever at your service," he said, crossing one arm around his midsection and one around his back, bowing politely. "Forgive me, young Marquess, it was rude of me to leave you wondering."

I simply smiled, tilting my head acutely. "You are forgiven, Mr. Souma."

_A duke. Jeez, why is he talking to such underclassmen as I? Or perhaps that's normal. Oh, I don't know anymore. I never attend these silly banquets. _

The orchestra stopped it's heavenly melody, causing everyone around to gently clap their hands in polite applause. Wanting to join in myself, I set the Mille-feuille back on the table, lightly clapping my hands in joyful praise to their wonderful music. The piece itself was enough to capture my ears.

"Would you happen to know what song they just played?" I asked Mr. Souma, who had turned and faced the orchestra with a bright smile and cheery approval. His eyes darted back to me in acknowledgement of my inquiry.

"Canon in D Major by _Johann Pachelbel_," he answered, perfect knowledge of the piece and creator. I remembered hearing another piece by that name, one that I liked, but couldn't quite put my finger on it.

"Did he also write, what was it... Um, T...Tacott - Toca-"

"Toccata," he finished for me.

That's what it was. "Yes, Toccata. Thank you, I couldn't think of the name. I love that piece, even though it's not performed by an orchestra," I thought aloud. Not that Duke Kukai Souma wanted to hear my constant rambling of unnecessary words.

Kukai Souma smiled and chuckled the slightest bit, just enough to show a hint of joy. "It can be."

"Yes, it can, but I've never heard it played by one."

When the applause dissipated, the string players took their seats once again, and the composure turned back around and started flipping through the scattered pages on his podium. I took a glance at Kukai who was staring at me intently, a slight smile/grin tilting his lips.

"They're playing again?"

"Yes, and this time it's going to be a waltz," he said, a certain gleam in his dark green eyes.

_I love the waltz. _

"Is that so."

"Of course. Now, I wouldn't want to miss out on such an intricate dance, nor would I want to leave a lovely lady such as yourself to stand alone. So Miss Hinamori, may I have this dance?"

_Yes! He just asked you to dance Hinamori! Go, go! _

The euphoric smile that stretched my lips across both sides of my face was far to hard to _not _let happen. Kukai held out his hand, splaying it in the hair in a staircase manner, silently asking for mine. All I had to do was reach up and take it, and we'd be on our way to the dance floor where I would get a chance to waltz with this beautiful stranger.

So I did.

"Why of course, Mister Souma, I would _love _to dance."

With courage and pride, I placed my hand lightly in his, and he smiled as I took it, clasping gently, turning to make his way to the dance floor. I followed elegantly, or as elegant as I could manage, next to him as he lead us to an empty space on the ballroom floor, where many other pairs had already taken their place to begin the upcoming dance. We crossed over and into the very middle, which made me feel quite exposed, because that way, despite all of use were going to be moving in one synced motion, steps perfectly aligned as everyone danced in rhythm, the upperclassmen that chose to watch the occasion could focus on me, which was pressuring.

Kukai stopped, turned, facing me with that same goofy grin curving his lips. I smiled flirtatiously in response, hoping he would get the subtle hints I was rolling in his direction.

"Ready?" he challenged, and I could tell he sensed my nervousness.

Instead of replying audibly, I gulped, looking away from his eyes, instead focusing on his charcoal tie, that was still undisturbed and perfectly tied. A small nod was all I could produce before the composure gave off a count - _1...2..._

_3. _

The second the orchestra formed a single note, the dance had begun, and Kukai stepped right as I stepped left, circling each other in a dignified manner, holding onto each other's hands lightly. Everyone followed the same steps, careful not to disturb the other partner's space to dance. The soft flow of the music was our metronome, our constant way to dance, our direction and path. The waltz was a carefully performed dance, slower than fast but not quite passive. It involved work from both sides, a two way street, teamwork in order to be brought forth classically. It also involved eye contact, which I was slacking on.

As we parted, only to return to each other in a leisurely sway, I decided to look up at him as he grabbed my hands, and then the eye contact broke when I twirled neatly in his arms.

"I shall return to you," he whispered briskly when my back grazed his chest, arms wrapped securely around me, and for that moment I was content with staying in that position forever, just savoring the feel of his warm body against mine, face pressed against my wavy hair that tied into a high, thick bun atop my head as soft curls fell and framed my face. But we unraveled, and the draft that swept over me was nothing short of cold as I spun away from him, and we had to change partners with the noblemen on our right.

As we parted, there was a split second where everyone on the floor was alone, navigating, scanning, searching for the person we were to continue dancing with. The women twirled, all in sync, into the strong arms of another man that was to accompany us during this section of the dance. As I swayed over to my new partner, two hands firmly grabbed mine, as I did the same to stop the constant movement that left me slightly dizzy.

_Eye contact. _

Eye contact was key in this part of the dance, so I had no choice but to look into the orbs of my temporary partner.

But the eyes that met mine captured them from first glance.

Such a royal sapphire, deeper than the very core of the earth, darker than the moon sweeping over the stars on a perfectly clear night, but as sparkly and bright as every diamond glittering in the sky. A dark canopy of thick, long lashes framed his almond shaped orbs as he stared deeply into mine with an intensity that made me want to cower, but they provoked such an invitation that lured me in from the first moment I could focus on them.

Such a captivating glance, and in that moment there was nothing. Not Kukai, not my grandmother or Hoshina Utau or the divine Mille-feuille, not even the waltz unraveling in a series of steps.

Just this captivating man standing before me and the proximity he made me threaten to close.

"Hello, Marquess Hinamori Amu."

_Oh... _

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><p><strong>Sierra: Wallah! Chapter one is FINISHED. Woot woot! I hope everyone who bothered to read enjoyed, and if you enjoyed I hope you have the kindness to drop a review and tell me what you thought, how good or bad it was, what I messed up on and so on and so fourth. <strong>

**Bit of a cliffhanger at the end there, so I guess if you want to continue reading them tell me and I'll update! **


	2. The Heady Spell

**Sierra: Well, I got quite positive feedback from first chapter, so yay! I'm pretty happy/excited to be able to continue with a second chapter, which I passionately hope you enjoy and feel a need to tell me how much, if at all, you enjoy it. **

**SINCERE THANKS TO THE REVIEWERS. JUST SAYIN. Enjoy~ And I need to say I made a HUGE mistake last chapter. The classical piece I mentioned, _Taccota, _was not written or composed by Johann Pachelbel. Bach was the creator and composure of that piece, but Pachelbel did a cover of it later in the 1600's, also on the Organ in which it was written for. Forgive my mistake, I will fix it later, or revise that scene altogether. **

**SHUGO CHARA: Le no own le show with magical eggs and sexy nekos. **

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><p><em><strong>Rapture <strong>_

_**~The Heady Spell~**_

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><p>Perhaps I wouldn't have been as skeptical had two unfathomably lavish men not knew my name before I had ever even experienced their company. The orchestra was busy with bow-to-string contact as my mind reasoned with a logical explanation as to how these two extraordinary men knew who I was. I contemplated the thought of my grandmother having to have conveniently struck up a conversation with <em>both <em>boys, but that would be slightly ridiculous, right?

Smiling without slight hesitation, I tilted my head to a small degree of still being able to look correctly into his glittering cobalt eyes. At my minor movement, something flashed across his eyes, like the shadow of a body passing through them, but instead a specific kind of light seemed to spark them even more alive than they were. For the fastest second, they widened, pupils dilating, but then returned to their normal state of - what was that? Curiosity? Engrossment?

Whatever the emotion swimming behind his oceanic eyes, it left me utterly speechless, and had a dance not been in session, motionless.

"I don't believe I've met you before," I commented passively, adding an obvious octave to my voice, not quite flirtatious, but not monotone.

We circled around each other, steps swift and elegant across the polished wooden floor. When we stopped to turn sharply, his stunning azure hair, shiny as marble, silky as finest satin, danced around his forehead, swaying sensuously in front of his opalescent orbs. It was long, but not _too _long. It was...perfect, the way it framed his face, fell around his eyes, cascaded down the sides of his head and clung slightly to his delectably smooth neck.

_Oh... Wow..._

"A genuine observation, Miss Hinamori," he replied, a smile framing his - oh, his lips. They were simply too enticing; full and modeled to complete perfection, parting almost imperceptibly yet beguilingly in the center. And it was decided right then, right there, right away that I wanted to kiss them.

_Hinamori! _my subconscious scolded, _Get it together! How on earth can you think about such inappropriate actions? The time, nor the place, nor the _man _are correct. Knock it off you dirty little Marquess. _

An explicit sentence flew to mind but I refrained from cursing in front of this beautiful stranger.

"I am Ikuto Tsukiyomi," he informed enticingly.

It's as if no matter what he said it came out exceedingly provocative and so, so tempting. I melted under the thought of his deep voice splitting with undeniable laughter.

"You come from the Tsukiyomi's?"

I had little knowledge on the Tsuskiyomi family as a unit, but they were known far and wide, and my grandmother took the time once out of her precious and busy day to explain their exact level of importance in this fragile and growing economy. The Tsukiyomi's were the most prominent family in all of Europe, and growing even more so across the world. They practically drowned in all of their money, and God only knew how they kept getting it.

To the Tsukiyomi's, everybody was just an item. They would implement their social algorithm and calculate precisely where other's stood in their intricate and extravagant constellation based on everything; from where their family stood in today's elaborate economy to how far their family branch went to what kind of house they lived in and even right down to the number of servants one retained. According to my grandmother, that's just the only way their reserved minds functioned. Just thinking about their thought process got my own wheels turning.

Ikuto Tsukiyomi gazed heavily into my eyes, and for a split second it was as if the question was never asked, as if he didn't hear me, and for that small moment I forgot it also.

"Yes," he finally said, speaking up, "my mother and father are Souko and Aruto Tsukiyomi."

"They're your _parents_?" I asked, astonished. I've seen marvelous portraits of Souko and Aruto Tsukiyomi before, and both of them look refreshingly young. Their son was this old?

Ikuto chuckled, and I knew I had been right before. The sound of his laugh was more melodic than the heavenly orchestral music dancing off the walls. "Yes, they are my biological parents."

I hadn't realized my own pace slowing until Ikuto had to jerk me slightly, shocking me briefly, disturbing the perfect dance currently in session. For a second, I wasn't sure how to react to the sharp pull, but it kept us on track, despite the fact my mental train was going every which direction.

_Guess I should do less talking and more dancing. _

I decided to keep my mouth shut, even though it was hard not wanting to converse with him until the sun set and dawn bloomed into the perfect peachy color that set the sky a soft milky pink mixed with the most incredible hue of blue. Hm, kind of like his eyes... Although I'd much rather compare his eyes to the deep shade of a dark night sky when the stars are the only illumination and romance is able to come alive.

_Hinamori, get your head together. Seriously. _

Inhaling deeply, I closed the lids of my eyes, and let the music guide my steps briefly, as well as Ikuto Tsukiyomi, whose hands conveniently had to release mine to quickly grip the stiff sides of my corset, spinning at a pace that was almost too fast to keep up with, and I felt the floor slowly being torn from under me, but then he was there again, guiding me, stepping in closer, allowing the tenseness to clement. The breath I held released in an easy breeze when that part was over.

We danced around in the silence of our own bubble, but it was not silent in the busy ballroom. A little louder than I would have liked to comprehend, but whenever I would glance shyly, now, for some reason, at Ikuto, something tense inside of me would loosen and unfurl in a wonderful sensation of release. I relaxed in the nostalgic feeling for as long as it lasted.

"Miss Hinamori." His voice broke through my reverie, poking timidly at first, then bursting into my sensitive ears in one moment. It was husky, dark even, provoking the already loose strands of my now tangled mind to untangle even further.

I _had_ to look into his eyes then, _had _to see what emotion swam there, any hint to something... A little _more. _

But finally when our eyes clashed and my mind grabbed together something half rational to say, there was a step and breath, then the air swirled around and over me like a waterfall, being freed from a pleasant hold. Ikuto let go and I seemed to be whisked away by nothing - just air; not being able to return, wanting to.

But to keep up a sophisticated and relaxed composure, which was everything I lacked at the moment, I forced my eyes to lid themselves, forced the movement out, the sight of Ikuto's features, and allowed darkness to consume my world as I lifted my arms and twirled. It was harder to do, as I found, when the only thing clouding your eyes was blackness, but I somehow managed to maneuver through and around the busy flock of women with excessively large ball gowns that flurried about with several layers of expensive looking skirt spanning all around, taking up every bit of floor as they did so.

I did not have to reopen my eyes before I was already within the arms of another. The men were supposed to catch us as we fell back with subtle ease, although my heart dropped through my already mushy stomach when I fell for a split second too long, and inadvertently I gasped against the strong arms of my captor.

He lifted me briskly, and my eyes finally opened and widened at the movement, because I was unexpectant of it. A substantial fear dropped on me, afraid I did not return to Kukai after all but some random stranger in which did not treat me with tenderness, but when I was spun around, accidentally I flinched, but the face that greeted me was familiar and warm, smiling even. I hadn't put together the pieces of who he danced with when I was taken away, but it didn't really matter to me; I was unintentionally distracted by someone else, as bad as that was to think about.

I only hoped Kukai was too distracted to look over and notice Ikuto and I.

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><p>"Why, Elder Hinamori, you have a <em>lovely <em>granddaughter," she said, voice nothing short of frilly and velvety against the gentle chatter of noblemen that gathered their coats to protect themselves against the subtle bite of icy air that awaited everyone outside.

And there I stood, awkward and shy aside my grandmother who was once again in the depth of conversation with...

Hoshina Utua.

It was only dangerously natural to want to leave the both of them and run off somewhere else. But I was to leave with my grandmother and return to her manor or else I could consider myself stranded. It was in moments like these where I wished our carriage driver didn't possess such an attitude of leisure and contempt with the busy world. He was living in his own that didn't include traffic.

The old woman gave quite an obnoxious chuckle for someone of her quiet and calm stature, but she seemed joyful and oblivious enough not to pay any attention to her tone or volume. It made the side of my mouth quirk up unintentionally.

"My, of _course _she is," she giggled, raising an aged and wrinkled hand to her mouth, then lowering her voice drastically, continued, "but, could you believe it, she doesn't think so! She can never even accept a compliment."

The quirk in my mouth dropped immediately. It wasn't as if I was _right there, _but they obviously did not seem to care.

_I can take a compliment! ...Sometimes... _

I sighed heavily.

"You're kidding," Utau Hoshina scoffed, feigning amusement. In that moment I couldn't tell what it was bubbling and rippling in my stomach, but after a few moments it was clear to see; she simply made me bitter and heart impassioned.

_Like you actually care. _

But I kept all unnecessary comments to myself, despite the colossal urge to yell. So I pursed my lips and bobbed lightly on my heels, looking and focusing _anywhere _but the two gushing ladies in front on me. I stood far enough away to block them out moderately, but not enough to be invincible against Utau's gut wrenching occasional looks. It was hard not making eye contact with her; her eyes just kept darting. She clearly wasn't even indulged in the conversation she was actually having, but instead entertained with the hard glances she was throwing straight at me.

My grandmother let out a breathy distressed noise, melting by her knees a little. "Oh, lady Utau, she's never even _seen _a man before. She says they're too selfish and only looking for one thing! I don't know how to get it through her head that she needs to pass on the family name somehow! She absolutely _refuses _to take any of the men I suggest into consideration," she explained pleadingly, as if _asking _Utau for help.

A questioning smile curled upon her perfect pale lips, but it seemed only I could decipher the devilish gleam in her sparkling lavender orbs. "Is that so? She sounds quite stubborn indeed Marquess Hinamori." Her voice dropped terrifically low, almost to the point of whispering. But her velvety voice was still smooth and untainted for her minuscule tone. "If you would like, perhaps I could help both yours _and _her situation," she promised.

My eyes darted back to them, but Utau was perilously close to my grandmother, allowing me no access to her expression. It was as if she was hiding behind her frail and slumping figure.

"Oh?" Utau's words seemed to pique my grandmother's interest.

"With your permission, of course, I do know a few partner-less men that might think she's just their type," she whispered, this time an obvious drop in her tone. What was this? They couldn't plan out my future, who I would like, who I would marry.

It was about time Hoshina Utau found entertainment elsewhere.

But my grandmother's faint and delicate words froze me. "You know someone who would be interested in my little Amu?"

_Her little Amu? I'm not four! I'm nineteen for crying out loud! I can make my own decisions. _

Was it so hard for her to believe that someone might actually be engrossed in me at some point in my fragile and plain life?

"Oh, not just one, _many_. Believe me Miss Hinamori, I do have my sources, and I can apply my knowledge of their personalities to Amu's nature to find the perfect match."

"Why lady Utau that would be a blessing! But what about their social standing? Are they of high noblemen, upper class? Are their families well known?" my grandmother started questioning, restless and thirsty for information. But it was _my _life they were talking about.

The dying urge to jump in between them, cut the conversation short, erase the scribbled and unrealistic blueprints from all of our busy and full minds rippled through me like the crashing waves of an ocean, desperate for release. But my grandmother... It would be an act of utter vulgar and obscene behavior in her world. Who knows what kind of scolding she'd shove down my throat afterwords, or even right then in front of everyone. She'd die of embarrassment.

I gulped.

Utau's face lit up when she wan granted permission to put her plan in action. Eyebrows furrowing, I stared at _miss Hoshina _in sheer befuddlement. That bubbling, deep acidic sensation flourished in a frantic frenzy throughout the walls of my stomach, but it did not make me sick or nauseous. It made me so... _Irritated. _

_What's wrong with me? _

My eyes widened. Why was I getting so annoyed?

"I presume you've heard of the Fujisaki's?" she asked, head tilting to that same, slight, girlish degree mine had earlier. And she wasn't even staring into the eyes of a man. My grandmother greedily nodded her head, slowly yet surely drinking in everything Utau was saying. "Well, their son, Nagihiko Fujisaki, is _quite _the catch," she finished, smiling wickedly, knowingly.

My mouth gaped.

She was talking about him as if he were an animal or sale.

_You twisted little- _

"And, oh, his house. You indeed should visit it sometime Marquess Hinamori, it's _dazzling_." Tone over-exaggerated, frilly and fluffy. Eyes sparkling with devilish delight.

There was a breath, exhaled quickly, breathlessly; I hadn't even noticed I'd been holding it. My feet seemed to move on their own, even though it wasn't much; a step, the clack of my heel meeting the wooden floor with surprising brutality, intense, deafeningly audible. Utau's eyes snapped the second the noise resounded through the air, words melting away like ice on a hot day.

My mouth _had _opened in response to their unforgivable and outrageous conversation, _had _at least somewhat formed a rational and annoyingly polite defensive speech to banter about, but when they _both _looked at me, it was suddenly sounding less and less satisfying for both parties. My grandmothers expression was puzzled yet intriguingly thrilled at my presence, whereas Utau's expression couldn't bear enough horrible emotions, as if she was irritated and ecstatic and mysteriously puzzled all at the same time-

I couldn't _take _it, couldn't even fathom their curious and devilish glances. So as quickly as I came, I was turning, breathing ruggedly and hard, eyes darting everywhere; the woman with a bright green cloak draped around her shoulders, the man applying a black top hat to his charcoal hair, the massive double doors that were held open by two men in white tuxedos, the arrangement of flowers in two vast and bulky, intricately decorated flower pots.

"Amu?" my grandmother's address poured, not too heavily for it was still slightly hard to hear. I ignored it and started walking, slowly at first, trying to calm my breathing, inhaling deeply to take more steps that didn't take long to escalate. Soon there were just too many people all at once, all there, all talking and giggling and nodding politely to one another, as if that was how they _always _were. These people hid themselves behind exceptional masks when it was time to play, but alone, how would they react to these overwhelming situations? Too rationally, too briskly, because no one knew how to slow down anymore.

Not even me.

My breathing never faltered in it's uneven state, never failed to hitch and stop and make me gasp when my wobbly legs tried fitting my swollen skirts and choking torso through the crowd that loitered by the doors.

"Amu!" Her voice was there, once again, roaring and cracked above the noblemen who still sung louder.

But the doors were there, waiting, calling me outside, pulling. I tripped on someone's foot, or perhaps it was the heel of my own shoes, but I couldn't tell. No one seemed to notice besides me anyways. They were strung too tightly together, so many layers of skirt taking up space in the entryway, too many broad shoulders and bowing men. They were there again too, looking, taking curious glances, eyebrows raising and furrowing into my stumbling figure.

_Stop it, stop looking, stop looking at me- _

And then they were gone.

It was open, free space, the double doors directly parallel from each other where I stood in between them. The man who wore the white tuxedo on the right nodded to me, placing his free hand across his chest and bowing, saying in a smooth and practiced voice: "Thank you for coming milady, have a wonderful evening." Slowly, head turning to the other man in a matching uniform, my honey eyes seemed to meet his in a clashing glance, too hot to look away, too intense to keep staring.

He simply closed his eyes and bowed, then returned to his normal state of standing.

The colossal mountain of steps the led up to the double doors seemed too hard of a feat to overcome then, but before I knew it my heels were once again clacking in the frozen air of the night. The second I was on the top step, a gust of ice washed over the parts of my skin that weren't covered, weren't warm or protected against the bite of the winter air.

Thick flakes fluttered throughout the darkness of the busy streets, sky not quite black due to the sheet of gray clouds painting it a lighter hue of night. By the looks of it, it had been snowing a while now because there was already a blanket of accumulated snow clothing the ground, compiling atop buildings and cars, collecting on street lamps and people. It fell lightly but in large numbers.

Slowly, for some reason, still fearing another unnecessary jump in heart rate, I took my small, dark crimson cloak and enveloped my arms to my tailbone in furry softness. The outside consisted of velvet, making it heavier so it would provide more warmth. My grandmother suggested I wear this because my usual pea coat would have looked odd, trying to fit all this skirt into one jacket. But the cloak only covered my top half, with a hood that had animal fur around the edges to keep my ears and face relatively warm.

I took the velvet strands at the base of my neck and tied them together in a tight bow so the cloak would stay secure around my torso.

When I descended from the last step, some snow somehow trickled into my open heels, and I squealed lightly at the coldness of the frozen particles melting against the warmth of my skin.

"Are you alright?"

There was no stopping it; my heart leaped and I jumped, turning sharply to see who was behind me, speaking so sneakily and softly. But the snow provided much slickness, and my ankles twisted roughly at my brisk change in position. I gasped when I lost footing, and the figure was there, surprised yet ready, stepping closer as I tumbled away. But I wasn't ready, and couldn't grasp his helping hands when gravity yanked me down.

I fell, hard and painful into the snow covered sidewalk, legs first, then a sharp bolt to my hip, until finally my arms flailed and at least protected my head from hitting the softened and freezing concrete. An unattractive grunt escaped me when my torso hit, expelling all necessary air from my lungs.

"Amu," he said, a little on the breathy side but not gasping. It sounded... Not worried, but, what was that, impatience? "Amu, grab my hand."

I blinked away the pain and snow that caked my cheek and eye, trying to even my breathing once again. Hands were there, waiting, warm and soft when one of mine lifted and placed into his, body propping itself up on my elbow.

"C'mon," he said, softly, soothingly, patiently.

A noise left me when I winced, but his strong arms lifted me almost weightlessly off the ground, allowing blood to circulate back to the injured and raw parts of skin that grew bitter the longer not swiped off.

"There we go," he breathed, letting go once I found my footing. Slightly dizzy still, I blinked away the fuzziness, concentrating on his broad chest. "Are you okay?" My eyes lifted, trailing up to that same, smooth, soft neck. Past his pointed chin, circling around his soft lips that were now parted all the way in wonder. Finally I looked into his eyes, still dazed. They were even darker out here, glittering with a deeper intensity when the light propelled off of his eyes as snow swirled around us.

"Ikuto..." It came out so... So much more breathless and sensual than I had planned, and again that light flashed across his midnight eyes.

He chuckled lightly. "You clumsy girl," he accused jokingly, although it was true. His gentle hands began dusting off the sticky snow along the sides of my velvet cloak, and his hand slipped inside to wipe off the water on my elbow, because it had melted the second I looked into his eyes. "Where did your footing run off to?"

I forced a small, breathy giggle, even though I felt more annoyed with myself than anything. "It must have vanished somewhere along the road."

Ikuto smiled. "Perhaps dancing takes a considerable amount of energy out of you," he suggested, hand retracting from my cloak. It lifted to the the side of my face that still inhabited snow, and my breath caught even further. My stomach was a mesh of emotions again, twisting and clenching into a nauseous knot that only kept one thought in the hot pool of my tangled mind.

I looked away from his eyes, getting sick from our proximity, but I loved the feeling. "Maybe it's just dancing with _you _that makes me so breathless," I concluded, and just like that my breathing eradicated, visible puffs of air in the frozen night, fogging up my vision and the sight of him.

His hand cupped my cold cheek (I could only tell because it was so warm against my face) and his thumb began gently wiping away the snow, letting it fall to the ground where it came from. Instantly my cheek warmed up, although the wet sheet it left behind numbed when a gust of chilly air whipped me, making the loose curls that fell around me face blow back.

"Oh," was all he breathed before my eyes met his once again.

There was only a moment between us before out of nowhere, _she _was there, giggling obnoxiously.

"Ikuto!" she said, girlish and happily, walking up to him. His hand stayed on my face as he turned to see who she was, and I was ready to scream because of the now ruined moment.

"Utau," he acknowledged, voice back to it's normal deep state of sensuality, even though it sounded a little more normal than that.

_They know each other? _

The moment Utau spotted Ikuto's hand on my cheek, his other suspiciously (to her) on my shoulder, her face dropped, expression darkening after only a moment shock.

And then it all happened in a breeze, too quickly to comprehend.

She was there, suddenly and unmistakably between Ikuto and I, saying something I didn't get to hear before her next movement caught me farther off guard.

Her hands were on mine, and she was giggling softly, saying something along the lines of, "Oh, your grandmother would have a conniption if she found out you fell and dirtied your dress in the snow! None of your clothing is cheap, you'know!" A smile curved her perfect features, and I was confused as to what was even happening.

Then we were backing up, and she began spinning us in circles- Why was she spinning us in circles? Heels against snow provided no traction, and I began pleading for her to stop: "Utau, please stop." She kept giggling, muttering something under her breath. "Utau, I'm going to fall, can you please stop?"

Ikuto was behind her, confused, an expression of curiousness and worry strewn about his features.

"Utau," I begged, a little louder this time, talking over her voice. "Utau you need to stop." My heel clipped against something in the snow, and I tripped momentarily before she was gripping my hands harder, pulling me with her. I winced against the brutality in her crushing hands. "Utau-"

"Utau, what are you-" Ikuto tried in the background, but he didn't get to say much.

I tripped again this time, in mid-sentence of my last plead. "Utau, STOP!" But her hands let go, and the only thing I could hear last was one small, fatal, non sympathetic:

"Oops."

A devilish smile was the last part of her I saw before I shrunk into the ground.

My body hit, this time not the sidewalk but the road, snow shrouding me again.

"Hey, get out of the way!"

More attention was called at some man's roar, and people looked over, and I heard the rumble of a carriage wheeled by one, obsidian hoarse. "Move girl!" And then there were screams, screams of women and shouts of men, but my body was immobile, and Ikuto tried yelling over the vehemency of the moment, but his roar was but muffled noise.

I looked up, eyes beholding the sight of the towering mare and the power that radiated off of it, and the carriage driver who whipped the strings. I heard the high pitched yelp of the screeching hoarse, watching it lift on its two back legs, front legs flailing and moving in attempt to back away, but it was too close.

"AMU!" There were yells all about, people rushing to me, but I couldn't move now.

I lifted my arms in front of my head, curling into my tightest ball of security, and felt the sickness crash into my stomach harder than any feeling I'd felt before.

I screamed.

* * *

><p><strong>Sierra: Oops, another cliffhanger, my bad! Sorry for the late update, highschool is so overwhelming. If I get more good feedback then I'll update again! Until then, my lovelies. <strong>


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